


Fear in Power

by evening_coffee



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Manga & Anime, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evening_coffee/pseuds/evening_coffee
Summary: “Listen kid! I don’t have to babysit some British brat for the rest of my life. I quit!” Bard hastily took the bird out of the oven and violently slammed it on top of the stove.The little earl turned back to look at Bard, and then let out a loud, sarcastic chuckle. “Ha! And what then? Are you just going to wander around London until some penniless carriage driver offers you lodgings?”“Sure! Why not? Anything’s better than working for a selfish toddler!” And with that, Bard took the carving knife from the table and jammed it into the turkey with all of the force his anger could give him.Bard was in the process of throwing off his apron when he heard it.The same loud, shrill scream he’d heard the other night, but now cut abruptly short.In a moment of horror, Bard turned towards the door to see the earl standing there. His mouth was open, his breaths were short, and he was completely transfixed on the dead bird on top of the oven.“Hey...kid?”(A little story about Bard's first few days at the Phantomhive manor)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	Fear in Power

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had for a while, and I wanted to get it out there before Bard's backstory is revealed. It's a bit rushed, and some of it is already canon divergent, but I still wanted to publish it just in case anyone wanted this kind of story.

Bard was stuffing his face full of the roast beef that mister Sebastian had prepared for him. Due to his logic still being muffled by his furious need for food and water, he didn’t question how the food was prepared so fast. He had already downed two full pitchers of water and was rushing his way through the meat in order to get to the apple pie that sat on the counter. 

Bard looked up at mister Sebastian, who was currently washing the dishes he’d used to prepare Bard’s meal. _This guy...what’s his deal?_

Bard was not suspicious of mister Sebastian; he didn’t even consider that the butler might have nefarious motives. However, Bard definitely didn’t see his current situation as “normal.” He was part military troupe on a mission to claim territory in England. Said mission had gone horribly, tragically wrong, and Bard was the lone survivor. 

Imagine his shock when, out of nowhere, a man dressed in black appeared. The man, upon seeing a foreign invader in his country, offered the invader both a job and a home. 

Bard was sure that mister Sebastian must be an angel. 

But the job offering was...strange. Bard didn’t hesitate to take it, of course; he was hungry, penniless, and alone, so to turn down any opportunity would be beyond stupid. But the job, from what Bard understood, was some kind of duel role of both cook and bodyguard. First of all, that combination was just strange. Second of all, Bard had absolutely no qualifications in the realm of cooking. Guarding? Sure, but the chef thing _definitely_ wasn’t his cup of tea. 

Mister Sebastian had explained that this master guy was a touch paranoid, so all members of his staff need to be capable protectors, or something. 

Weird, but...okay. Bard wasn’t in a position to argue over his living conditions, so he had followed mister Sebastian to the giant house where he was currently eating. The place was kinda gaudy, in Bard’s opinion, but rich people tend to like that sort of thing. Or maybe just the brits. 

“So,” Bard said in between two bites of the beef he was furiously devouring, “this master guy, what’s he like and when do I see him?” 

Sebastian turned to Bard and smiled. “My master is a very proud individual, so it would be in your best interests to treat him with all of the respect that nobility deserves.” Bard nodded. That shouldn’t be a problem. He was used to obeying commands and respecting his superiors. It had been drilled into him pretty aggressively. 

Sebastian continued, “I do not wish to divulge too much about my master, but I should mention a few things since you’re bound to be curious about them once you meet him. About a year ago, his immediate family was killed in a tragic fire. Unfortunately, after escaping the flames my master was tormented by a group of individuals who wished him ill, and as a result he wears a patch over his right eye.” 

Bard shuddered slightly. He’d seen a couple of his buddies have their eyes taken out by bullets and it was an especially horrific sight. 

Sebastian continued, “despite these circumstances, please do not pity the master of the house, for it would be a form of disrespect.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Bard said casually as he slowly reached for the pie, “but that doesn’t answer my other question, when do I get a chance to see- “ 

“One more thing,” Sebastian interrupted, “the eyepatch is not the only facet of the master’s appearance that will draw out your curiosity. I should inform you of the young master’s age...” 

**********   
Bard was standing before a god damn toddler, sitting on a thrown as if it didn’t make him look even smaller and more ridiculous. 

“My lord, I’ve hired a cook,” Sebastian said with a bow. Bard’s eyebrow twitched. He literally could not believe that the child (10? 11 maybe?) sitting in front of him was somehow in charge of someone as put-together as mister Sebastian. 

“Excellent.” The kid stood up and looked hard at Bard, as if physically assessing a farm animal to be bought. After a few seconds, the kid spoke. “Introduce yourself” he commanded. His voice was high pitched and matched his age, but his tone suggested authority that had never been questioned. 

Bard was still standing in shock with his fists clenched and his jaw stuck together. _I’m not doing this,_ he thought. _I’m not babysitting some British brat._

“Answer when you are spoken to!” The master didn’t yell, but his voice was certainly firmer and more confident than it was before. 

Bard gave a sudden lurch forward as Sebastian smacked him on the back, a not-so- subtle way of making sure he obeyed the master. 

“A-a hem. The-the name’s Bardroy. I-I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here, but, uh,” Bard gulped, swallowing his dignity along with it as he made a half-assed attempt at a bow “I’ll try my best...your excellency.” 

Bard expected a nod or something, but instead the brat snickered. “I don’t know what gives you away more; your ridiculous accent, your attire, or the fact that you have no idea how to address a person of nobility.” The snicker slowly escalated into a full laugh, and Bard tightened his fists even firmer than before, grinding his teeth hard enough to made an audible sound. 

But the brat slowly stopped laughing, and looked at Bard with condescending eyes. “You will address me as ‘Lord Phantomhive’ or ‘young master’ if that’s what you prefer.” The earl seemed almost uninterested, as if Bard’s rescue and potentially life-changing employment were the subjects of idle prattle. Even so, he smiled, and Bard could not for the life of him tell if it was genuine or mocking. “It’s getting late, Sebastian,” said the earl, “show Bardroy to his sleeping quarters. You can begin training him tomorrow.” 

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian said with a bow before leading Bard out of the main hall. 

Once he was sure they were out of ear shot, Bard snapped. “Are you telling me that little kid is your boss! Someone like you shouldn’t be taking orders from a tyke like hi-“ 

Sebastian gave a sharp turn and smacked Bard across his lower back, abruptly cutting him off mid-sentence. “Ow! What the hell was that!” 

Sebastian was beaming. “I noticed your posture was slightly uneven, so I decided to help correct it,” as he said this in a cheerful voice, his eyes narrowed and his neck tilted. 

_Got it,_ thought Bard, _don’t diss the brat._ With this new unspoken rule in place, Bard became even angrier and more uneasy. It was just beginning to dawn on him that that kid held more money and power than Bard could ever dream of having, 

And now Bard was a part of his staff. Another possession. 

While the jealous anger was setting in, Bard tried to remind himself that he had a job now. He tried to remind himself that mister Sebastian had saved him, and would probably help him out. 

He tried to forget the smug arrogance that littered that kid’s eye. 

He had a lot of time to remember and forget things, seeing as the mansion was bloody huge and walking to his new bedroom was taking an eternity. 

When they finally reached the dreary servants' quarters, Bard was disappointed to find out he was sharing a room with the boy currently lying in one of the beds. Bard was used to sharing rooms, of course, but after so much time in cramped tents filled with sleep-talkers, loud mouths, and sweaty shoes, he was secretly hoping for his own room. 

The boy in question was also freakishly young. Not a tyke, like the brat in the throne, but probably still in his teenage years. Even though he hadn’t said anything yet, Bard immediately found the boy...creepy. 

Yeah, that was the right word for it. 

The boy had wide but vacant eyes, and his expression had remained completely lifeless even when he addressed Bard. “Hello,” was all he said, and even his voice sounded robotic, like he was reading the word out of a script. 

Bard was slightly dumbstruck by the boy’s appearance, so it took him a few seconds to respond. “Oh, uh, hey. I’m Bardroy,” he said, trying to sound cheery and friendly in an attempt to hide his unease. “I guess I’m the cook here now, haha. What about you, how did you wind up here?” Bard assumed, based on mister Sebastian’s criteria, that this kid also came from unusual circumstances to be a body guard. Although, to be honest, he couldn’t understand how such a scrawny kid could be much help. 

The boy sat up and said, completely monotone, “the young master and Sebastian found me, so now I’m a gardener.” He smiled timidly, but the expression disappeared almost immediately, as if he had only been testing it out. 

“Haha, yeah...” Bard was still insanely curious, but the more he talked to the boy, the more terrified he became. Not only was he creepy, he barely seemed like a real person. Bard internally prayed that this wasn’t somehow a result of working in this mansion, for if that were the case Bard would be running for the hills as soon as possible. 

The awkward silence returned with a vengeance. 

Bard had only just realized that Sebastian was no longer at his side.   
“Umm what’s your name?” Bard asked after way too much time had passed. _Please for the love of god, kid, say or do something normal._

The kid’s eyes brightened and he gave another smile, except this one seemed genuine, not rehearsed. “My name is Finnian!” His voice actually sounded kind of excited. It was still mostly one tone, but he seemed to fill his words with a sense of pride. 

Bard exhaled. _Okay, this is a weird kid,_ he thought, _but at least he’s human._ Bard decided to extend his hand, hopefully drawing more out of this guy. “Well then, nice to meet you Finny!” 

Finny looked at Bard’s hand for a few seconds, then back up at Bard. “I’m sorry. I can’t shake your hand to say hello. I might break it,” his monotone voice recited. 

Bard’s eye twitched. _I stand corrected. This is a_ really _weird kid._

“Uh, what makes you say tha-“ 

“Bardroy,” said a commanding voice from behind. Bard turned around and was instantly relieved. _Oh,_ _thank god, mister Sebastian’s back._

Sebastian held out a shirt and pants, and passed them over to Bard. “These are your night clothes,” Sebastian explained. “I just had them made. You’ll dawn your official uniform on tomorrow.” 

Bard nodded. “Thank y- hey wait a minute! How did you have these made so fast-“ “Goodnight,” Sebastian said quickly while closing the door behind him. 

Bard got changed, shut off the light, and tried to fall asleep on his new bed. 

Before he could shut off his brain, he heard a timid squeaking sound coming from beneath his bed, followed by the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps. He groaned internally. _It’s just a rat,_ he thought, _try not to think about it and just go to_ _slee_ _—_

The bed suddenly lurched up into the air, and Bard yelled in response. _Wh-what’s happening! Am I asleep? Is this a dream?_

As quickly as it had raised, his bed plopped back down on the ground so hard he thought it might fall through the floor. 

Finny emerged from beneath Bard’s bed, holding the rat. Horror took hold of Bard’s chest as he watched the boy barely squeeze the animal, somehow making its head and body explode. 

“I’m sorry, but it was bothering me.” The boy tossed what remained of the rat out the window, and went back to his bed as if nothing had happened. 

Bard took his pillow and slept outside of the room. 

***********   
After finding Bard sleeping in the hallway the next morning, Sebastian, without much detail, explained that Finnian was “blessed” with inhuman strength, and that the boy’s previous living conditions hindered his ability to socialize normally. 

Sebastian seemed content explaining as little as possible, and Bard was too horrified to press further. 

Bard was introduced to the maid by way of watching Sebastian chastise her for trying to wash dishes with olive oil. She looked Chinese, and didn’t appear to speak English very well, so Bard didn’t bother trying to talk to her. 

She was cute, though. Nice rack. 

The rest of the day consisted of Bard being taught how to cook. Except, it wasn’t really much of a lesson. It was more just staring at Sebastian as he made stupidly complicated recipes at seemingly impossible speeds. 

Bard spent most of the day eating. 

On break from the “lessons,” Bard took a walk through the mansion. _If I’m going to live in the hell house I might as well know where I’m going._

He wandered...and wandered...and wandered. _Holy shit this place is huge._

It got to a point where Bard was lost; there were so many halls and rooms that he wasn’t sure he could make it back to the kitchen. Just as he was starting to feel disoriented, he passed by the one open door he had seen so far. It was still mostly closed, but not completely shut. Out of curiosity, Bard slowly opened the door and peaked his head through the crack. 

It was the kid! He was sitting at a desk that was comically large compared to the size of the earl. It looked like he was reading some sort of document. 

_Geez,_ Bard cringed a bit, _are they really letting a little kid handle some kind of government work._ For a second, Bard shook his head, thinking that the kid was probably just playing pretend, but then he thought about the fact that this kid was some sort of royalty...and apparently, he was Bard’s boss. Bard’s stomach dropped a bit. 

“Aaay knock knock,” Bard said as he let himself in. _I’ll play nice,_ he thought, _just to see what his deal is._

The kid tilted his head up in surprise, and his face morphed into a disappointed grimace. “In the future, knock _before_ you enter a room.” His voice was low and had a growl to it. “And, for the record, you should not enter any of the rooms where I conduct my business; it is distracting and disrespectful.” 

Bard tried really, really hard to stifle his laughter, but it burst out of him in a joy-filled guffaw. The sound twisted the kid’s expression even more; his face became red and he was clenching his teeth. “I’m sorry,” Bard said, still trying to control his laughter, “you just sound kind of silly. It’s the whole ‘I’m a big important business guy’ act, y’know?” Bard’s laughter slowed as the kid looked more and more furious. “Ahem, I just mean...it’s kinda funny hearing you sound so serious, seeing as you’re just—” 

“A child?!” The kid finished Bard’s sentence, and his voice was loud and harsh. Bard stepped back a bit. He wasn’t exactly _intimidated,_ just...alarmed. 

The kid continued, “I am the earl, and you are the servant. Do not assume that your age somehow makes you my superior. I was kind enough to offer you a position in my manor, and it would be in your best interest not to forget that fact.” Bard had never heard a child speak so harshly, and unconsciously started backing away through the doorframe. 

The kid finally dropped his grimace, and replaced it with a wry grin. “Close the door on your way out,” he spoke casually, as if the encounter had been friendly from the start. 

Bard pulled the door shut as he exited the room, and after doing so, the realization hit him, and he started fuming with pure rage. _That little brat thinks he’s better than me just because he has money?!_ Bard’s head began to fill itself with red-tinged images. The kid seemed to grow and morph into a person who towered over Bard; dropping pennies as Bard scrambled helplessly to pick them up. The kid was smiling the whole time. 

_What a bloody little knave._

*********** 

Bard couldn’t sleep that night. It was partially because the strong kid was sleeping only a few feet away from him, but mostly because he was still fuming. _Rotten rich kid. Thinks he can tell me what to do. He’s basically hiring a bunch of babysitters for himself, and somehow thinks_ he’s _the superior one._

_No, screw that._

Bard quietly snuck out of the servants’ quarters, and began wandering the mansion in his night clothes. _This is my house, so I get to see what’s in it._

Bard grew even more frustrated as he ran into locked door after locked door. His little rage fuelled field trip was turning into an exercise in futility. 

“Shit,” he whispered, hitting yet another door which he could not open. He sighed, resigning himself to his grim fate; trapped in a mansion like a rat in a maze. 

Feeling defeated, Bard started to make his way back to the servants’ quarters, but he soon felt as though the journey was taking far too long. 

_Shit. I’m lost._

Normally, this situation wouldn’t be that dire, but as Bard continued to travel up and down the hallways, he became very aware of how it would look to the other people in the house if he was to be seen wandering around when everyone was sleeping. 

Thief, liar, assassin, spy. All of these labels could be placed on him if he didn’t find his way back to his room— 

A loud, shrill scream broke the silence that soaked the manor. The hair on Bard’s neck stood straight up, and a violent shiver ran down his spine. 

For a brief moment, he lost himself. _Screams, blood, women are crying, someone’s child is hurt._

Bard staggered towards the injured child; a civilian caught in the cross-fire. _Hey, get out of here..._ Bard thought as he approached the family, but as he continued to move forward, the image melted away, and he was standing in the hallway. 

But the screaming continued. 

“Excuse me,” the soft voice in the midst of the sudden screaming made Bard jump. He turned around to see an elderly Asian man. The man had gentle eyes, but his look was one of concern. “You had better get back to your room; two right turns, one left, and down the stairs.” 

Bard was frozen stiff. “Ummm...I was—” 

The screams got louder. 

“Please, be on your way,” the Asian man whispered. Bard nodded helplessly, and ran down the hallway. 

*********** 

Bard was continuing his cooking “lessons.” 

It wasn’t going well. 

Most of it was to blame on Bard’s complete lack of culinary skill, and some of it was to blame on the fact that mister Sebastian’s examples had gone _far_ too quickly the previous day. 

But still, part of it was just that Bard was...distracted. 

Last night felt like a dream; the aimless wandering, the screaming, the panicking...all of it felt unreal. But Bard was _sure_ it had been real. 

He was starting to think this place was haunted. 

“I can smell the fire from upstairs,” a young voice chirped from the doorway. Bard gasped and looked towards the voice. The kid stood there, looking cocky as opposed to concerned. 

Bard gritted his teeth, and began looking back and forth for mister Sebastian. “Wh-where did—” 

“Sebastian is with Mey Rin right now,” the kid interrupted, “now, would you put out that fire?” 

Bard hadn’t even noticed that the turkey was burning until that very moment. He felt clumsy and foolish as he reached for a wet cloth to extinguish the flame. After the fire had been dealt with, the poorly prepared bird was rendered inedible. 

Bard looked up at the kid, who was currently sporting a wide and mocking smile. “Excellent,” he chimed, his tone as condescending as possible, “please, continue then.” 

The kid was about to turn to leave, but Bard felt something explode within him before he was out of sight. 

“Listen kid! I don’t have to babysit some British brat for the rest of my life. I quit!” Bard hastily took the bird out of the oven and violently slammed it on top of the stove. 

The little earl turned back to look at Bard, and then let out a loud, sarcastic chuckle. “Ha! And what then? Are you just going to wander around London until some penniless carriage driver offers you lodgings?” 

“Sure! Why not? Anything’s better than working for a selfish toddler!” And with that, Bard took the carving knife from the table and jammed it into the turkey with all of the force his anger could give him. 

Bard was in the process of throwing off his apron when he heard it. 

The same loud, shrill scream he’d heard the other night, but now cut abruptly short. 

In a moment of horror, Bard turned towards the door to see the earl standing there. His mouth was open, his breaths were short, and he was completely transfixed on the dead bird on top of the oven. 

“Hey...kid?” 

The earl didn’t respond. He just continued staring at nothing as he started to hyperventilate. 

_Oh._

Something aggressively clicked in Bard’s brain. The dead family, the missing eye, the desire to be respected and in control, and the odd practice of only hiring people who can act as able protectors...

This kid had _seen_ things. And, from the looks of it, he was seeing them again; reliving grotesque images and struggling to find a reality where he wasn't in any pain. Bard knew what that felt like; he'd had moments like that before, but he'd known people, other soldiers, who'd had it even worse. 

When Bard had been forced to accept a child as his superior, he had forgotten _why_ this child was in that position in the first place; he was only in charge because there was no one left. He was just a child who lost _everything,_ and all of this money and privilege that Bard was so jealous of could never replace it. 

Just as Bard could never replace his comrades, could never save those civilians, and could never reach that child who got caught in the crossfire. 

But the child suffering in front of him wasn’t a memory. He was real. 

“Hey, ki—” _Don’t be stupid,_ Bard thought. “Lord Phantomhive ? Can you hear me?” The earl remained unresponsive. _God, he’s really out of it._

Bard took a few steps forward, and then jumped as he felt something grab his hand. 

“I can handle this situation, if you would please step out through the back.” It was mister Sebastian. The butler then gestured towards the cellar door, where the back entrance to the servants’ quarters could be found. 

Bards suddenly felt quite useless, but when he tried to speak up in protest, mister Sebastian covered his mouth and said, “the young master would be quite embarrassed if he returned to his senses and found you here.” Sebastian was smiling for reasons Bard couldn’t comprehend. 

Bard was dumbstruck. He glanced back at the earl, who was still trapped in his own memory, and then back at mister Sebastian before running out through the cellar door. 

*********** 

Bard was back wandering the halls. He wasn’t doing so with the goal of sneaking into rooms as he was last night, but just walking in an attempt to ease the guilt hanging over him. 

“Bardroy,” said a voice behind him. Bard quickly turned around to see the earl standing at the other end of the hall, walking towards him. 

Bard froze. _Oh god, I’m out._ Bard didn’t know whether the earl was angry at Bard’s tantrum or simply ashamed of the situation that had occurred earlier. Either way, Bard was sure that he was about to be let go. 

“I apologize,” the earl began. His words were spoken with confidence, but something about them seemed to quaver despite his best efforts. “What you witnessed earlier cast me in an unprofessional light, and it is an image I do not want those in my employ to see. Please rest assured that I am quite alright, and do try to forget about what you saw.” He finished his sentence with a nod, signalling to Bard that he was requesting a reply. 

“Uhhh it’s...it’s no problem really,” Bard murmured. “I mean, you don’t have to be embarrassed if you’re--” 

“Do not continue,” the earl interrupted, “just agree to forget what you saw.” The earl turned his head to cut off eye contact, and seemed to be genuinely distressed. 

“I--yeah. Yeah, I’ll um, forget all about it.” 

The earl sighed in relief. “Thank you."

Bard nodded. "No, um...thank you."


End file.
